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The train stops every few minutes. Far from being a direct service, I don’t think we’ve gone more than five minutes without a stop. It’s agonising, knowing we must be so close to Bratislava yet unable to get there any quicker. It’s even more irritating that no-one seems to get on or off the train at any of these stations. There are nineteen people in this carriage – I’ve counted them – but not one of them has got on or off since Vienna.
As the train pulls away from Gattendorf station (the fourteenth one we’ve stopped at in the past fifty minutes – I’ve been counting), I decide I need a change of scenery to stop me going insane. I pick up my bag and head for the toilet.
I don’t need to go – I just want to be able to sit somewhere, quietly, without stressing myself out. Some solitude,
